


Just a Human

by Anika_Ann



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (close enough) - Freeform, (kinda), Attempt at Humor, Attempted Assault, BAMF Bucky Barnes, BAMF Reader, BAMF Steve Rogers, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Objectification, Reader Needs a Hug, Reader-Insert, SHIELD Academy, Sexism, Strangers to Lovers, Toxic Masculinity, implied sexual relationship, steve rogers is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-12 19:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18453083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anika_Ann/pseuds/Anika_Ann
Summary: Being a SHIELD recruit was a dream coming true, especially with people like Sergeant Barnes or Captain Rogers offering an input to your class’ training.Needless to say, it was also hard work for many different reasons. One of them being all those guys around; not all of them were exactly fit to become heroes, given the fact they were walking testosterone advertisements and not in a good sense of the words.Maybe you shouldn’t have pointed it out so openly though. Then again, what would the world turn into if you kept your mouth shut when feeling like speaking up?





	1. A handful

**Author's Note:**

> Oops, I did it again. Righteous Steve versus sexists jerks; but I’m innocent, this fic practically writes itself. Here it is again. Guess this one is a bit different though. If nothing else, I threw Bucky in the mix.
> 
> Either way, hopefully it can make someone’s day better despite the unoriginal title. Enjoy? :))
> 
> Warning for language and very clearly sexually frustrated jerks.

“Can you believe the fucking nerve on him?!” Henry hissed, punching the bag harder and catching your attention. The statement was followed by his companion nodding grimly.

You tried to ignore the walking testosterone jerks; you never liked either Henry or Jim. The reason was simple – they were, as you loved to remind people, an advertisement on toxic masculinity. Bullies on top of that. The kind of people you wanted to avoid at all costs. You weren’t that lucky to have that chance though.

So instead, you scoffed under your breath and continued your sit-ups series. You had more important things to do than wonder about what they were talking about this time.

It was your regular training session with the other SHIELD recruits led by Sergeant Barnes – which-- _oh my._ When you had joined the academy, you had no clue that the director’s _‘you’ll be learning from the best_ ’ mean that of all things. Trained by the more than once believed late James Buchanan Barnes. Everyone here knew his story – or at least some of it. The brainwashing. The murders. His heroics to make up for them as much as he could. His everlasting friendship and a nickname that was tied to it. _Bucky;_ the very best friend of the oh so praised Captain America.

Oh, speaking of which, he joined the sessions too. You were being trained by not one, but _two_ supersoldiers. You couldn’t believe this was your life sometimes, but you were not the one to dwell on it. You just accepted it as a fact. Abso- _fucking_ -lutely incredible fact.

“He’s just a fucker, man. Forget about Barnes, you have Cassie in your pocket. Just ‘cause he’s all sticky sweet on her doesn’t mean she’ll suck his-“

You made a disgusted face, pushing harder to tune out the conversation. You wanted to gag and at the same time, your blood was boiling.

Could there be a jerk who was objectifying women more than Jim? A guy who was using his lower brain more frequently than him? Doubtful. You really wanted to throw up at rubbish that was leaving his mouth.

Not to mention that he was throwing dirt on Sergeant Barnes who absolutely didn’t deserve it.

“-he’s like that to all of them. The chicks. And they fucking dig him, it’s disgusting. He makes the poor brainwashed kicked puppy face, reminding the sob story of his and they’re all dropping to their knees I swear…” Jim continued and you squeezed your eyes shut, half furious and half guilty (the sergeant did have a heart-breaking backstory and many girls were making eyes on him, their hearts softened by the tragedy and his bravery, and you couldn’t say it wasn’t moving you as well, filling you with compassion – but compassion only).

The sergeant didn’t deserve these shitty insults; he was not trying anything on anyone, he wasn’t offering his ‘sob story’, actually being rather secretive about it for obvious and no doubt painful reasons, and he really couldn’t be blamed for the girls sighing at him, could he?

Freaking idiots. You seriously considered moving from the station you had been given, eyeing Captain Rogers, checking if he would notice.

“Well, he’s not getting mine, okay! Asshole!”

The bag swung wildly under Henry’s blow despite Jim holding it. You laid off, taking your fifteen seconds break.

“I bet he’s fucking them all. Always so… so soft on them. I bet he’s leaving all the hard shit for bed.”

“And he’s too hard on us. Showing dominance. I would fucking want to see him holding up against us without that metal arm-“

You had enough. You sat up sharply, panting and red in your face, unsure whether it was from the exercise or the exchange you were listening to.

“Are you serious?!” you hissed their way, earning their shocked glances.

Then, Jim’s face twisted in disgust.

“Oh geez, you’re one of them, aren’t you?” he snarked, rolling his eyes. “The fangirls.”

More heat coloured your cheeks. You weren’t kidding anyone; both the sergeant and the captain had showed up in your not so innocent dreams, but you were only human, alright. There was only so much time you could spend with two very fine men like them in one room, a bit sweaty and rough (or just slightly gentler with the ladies) until your brain reacted. Mostly to the captain. Not the point.

But actually crossing the line? Being a part of such thing if it ever existed? Wait in the line until one of them picked you for the evening with a promise to do it again after they… Jesus, tried all the others? _No, thank you._ You had some dignity left. Also, you simply couldn’t imagine them doing such thing. Raised in a different era, tested by war and pain and lost, yet resembling the great men they were? Just _nope._

“No! Jesus, are listening to yourself?” you minded your volume, hoping the low hum of others working out, giving each other pointers and the noise of the machines used would offer you a cover from the rest of your companion.

“What, you wanna tell me they’re not going easy on you? On any chick, really?”

“Yeah, well, maybe because they don’t actually want to break our bones during training. Supersoldies. Superstrength. Does that ring a bell?” you pointed out, reaching for your water bottle, hoping either of your trainers would forgive you when seeing you only took a sec to have a sip.

Henry scoffed, leaning onto the bag. “Sounds like someone has a crush… _”_

You couldn’t help the motion of your hands, inconspicuously throwing them in the air in frustration.

Why were you even speaking to them? You should have kept your mouth shut!

“Oh go to hell, Ulrich! You’re just jealous and scared for your girl whom you treat like a piece of shit,” you murmured, wiping your forehead off sweat.

“Yeah, because they’re sure pulling their punches with guys too,” Jim complained again, rolling his eyes. You couldn’t but do the same, still playing the Devil advocate, because…. yeah, because it wasn’t fair to either Rogers or Barnes. They were good people and didn’t deserve this.

“So they’re not beating the shit out of us like they do with you, get over it.”

“They’re humiliating us! Showing off their big muscles, trying to impress all the chicks-“

You chuckled incredulously as they revealed the real reason behind their bitching so openly; as if you hadn’t known the whole time. Ego. _Ohhh,_ the ego was bruised. _Call 911, CPR is gonna be needed!_

“They’re _doing their job_. Training. Yes, they go a bit harder on you, because your physiology can take it. Did it ever occur to you that they have bigger problems than entering a pissing contest with you just so they could steal the girls? Jeez…”

You missed the hard look Henry gave you, laying down again, this time on your belly to work on your back.

You wheezed when a knee buried in your back, pushing the air out of your lungs violently. A voice whispered right into your ear, low and dangerous.

“Listen, you little bitch, you don’t get to talk to me like that. Understand? Huh?”

You tried to breathe in, your muscles burning with the effort. Shit, he was _heavy_. You wheezed again instead of the answer.

“Can’t hear you, sweetie. What was that?”

Peripherally, you could see heavy boots approaching rapidly, making a quick guess of who that could be. You gritted your teeth, tears of humiliation pricking your eyes. You were not about to give Henry the satisfaction of proving a point.

 _“Screw. You,”_ you let out with the last oxygen left, grabbing his left calf and sharply tugging to the very same side. A half-second later when his weight of you eased just a fraction, you threw your body to the left as well, adding a jerk of your legs.

Both of you rolled over, him ending up under you and you quickly spun away, gasping, desperately fighting for air. When it burned your windpipe, it was as painful as welcomed. You knocked your head against the floor once before sitting up, only to meet with Captain Rogers’s strict gaze.

“What the hell is going on in here?” he demanded, sharp blue eyes flickering between the three of you.

Maybe you were hallucinating, but he seemed to be murdering Henry with his eyes. Uh-uh. You would be glad if Henry hadn’t been talking about favourism towards girls only few moments ago. You pushed up simultaneously with him and you both stood straight, facing the captain.

“I’m sorry, sir” you stated mechanically, his gaze immediately shifting to you. Your heart stopped. Oh _wow,_ you would swear the blue of his irises was on fire. You gulped. “We had a slight disagreement with Mr. Ulrich. I’m aware I shouldn’t have been talking to him in the first place. I’ll take whatever punishment is given to me.”

 _“Yeah, I bet you’d liked taking a punishment from him, wouldn’t you…”_ Jim muttered under his breath, making your gut twist in disgust. Was he ever _not_ thinking about sex?

You prayed the captain didn’t hear him and you had to stop yourself from shooting Jim a murderous glare. 

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Consider it a warning. Mr. Ulrich? You have something to add before you take a few laps?”

You could literally _hear_ Henry’s blood boiling. You opened your mouth to ask for the same punishment, not wanting to have his point proved. You never got the chance to speak.

“No, sir. I only don’t understand why I’m the only one being punished,” Henry questioned and you gritted your teeth.

_Maybe because you attacked me, you dickhead?_

Captain glared at him for a moment before his gaze shifted to Jim. “You’re not. Mr. Larkin is following your example.”

You pressed your lips together, this time to stop a smile to spread on your lips. God, who knew America’s Golden Boy could get sassy? You cleared your throat.

“If I might speak, sir, I deserve to run the laps as well,” you noted carefully, earning a curious expression from your superior. You could tell he wavered, a strange spark appearing in his eyes.

You desperately wanted him to let you run too, because otherwise Henry would be proved right. Yeah, _nope._

“Very well, then. Ten laps around the gym, recruits. Then you move to the station free at the moment. Go. Don’t let it happen again.”

The three of you nodded dutifully and picked up a pace. For some reason, you could feel the captain’s eyes on you while he walked back to assisting his friend with hand-to-hand training. You glimpsed the sergeant leaning to him, probably asking what was that about, but the blond just shook his head.

Towards the eighth lap, you were being overpassed by Henry and Jim, who ran together; faster than you whether you liked it or not.

“This isn’t over, bitch,” his hateful hiss reached your ears and you picked up speed stubbornly, not showing them that they might intimidate you even for a second.

_They wished._

Even when leaving the room after the session was finished, you would swear there was a pair of blue eyes burning a hole in the back of your head. You hoped that you would be soon free of the captain’s attention.

You sure didn’t want him to watch too closely. You didn’t need him behind your back to see mistakes you sometimes made just like anybody else. Also, it would be harder to admire and ogle him; you did that occasionally, okay. You were just a human, after all.

 

 


	2. A handful of mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a bit more graphic than I intended, though I don’t think that it’s that bad. But hey, I never got assaulted so… just wanted to warn you. I’ll make up for it, I promise.

 

Shauna, your roommate and bestie from science division of SHIELD, was very patient listening to your lament about guys being dicks; she was awesome like that. So you vigorously vented your frustration with male population, rolled your eyes when mimicking the silent threat of ‘this not being over’, had a very unhealthy piece of cake at the cafeteria that afternoon and moved on.  

Henry’s words came haunting you few days later; which was too bad, because you had already forgotten about them, until the very moment they had punched you to the face.

…or rather to your shoulder and it wasn’t even a punch, more like one of those bumps people did, especially when they were being jerks, shoving you too hard for you to believe it was an accident.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” you threw over your shoulder sarcastically, continuing your way to the woman’s locker room.

In hindsight, that was probably mistake number one; ignoring Henry and not starting a fight right there, not to mention being mouthy.

To be fair, you had no interest in further interaction; you were exhausted from the training, you were sticky and sweaty and all you craved was a shower. You would have just gone to your dorm, but Shauna was having a hot date and you didn’t want to step on her toes. So you had taken your toiletries with you, using the showers near the gym.

Using the gym shower; mistake number two. It meant all of the students were gone by the time you emerged in fresh homey clothes, hair dripping water, because you hated hair-dryers, avoiding them if possible.

You had spent much longer in the shower than needed, allowing your muscles to completely relax under the spray of water. Aka mistake number three.

The fourth mistake was your pride. When you saw Henry, Jim, George (at least you thought, you weren’t sure, not having many classes with him) and Frank in the corridor, clearly waiting for _you_ , since they bounced off of the wall they had been resting against when you had appeared, you should have probably been smarter and scream for help right away.

But no, you were being Miss Future Agent and you weren’t intimidated by four equivalents of high school jocks. Yep, this one was definitely the biggest mistake of yours.

“Fellas,” you beckoned to them, passing them gracefully, your bag over your shoulder together with the wet towel.

You barely made few steps before a harsh hand gripped your arm, tugging you back. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you tried your best not to let it show. You turned to Henry, looking at his face, head tilted back just slightly due to his height.

“Is there a problem, Ulrich?” you asked calmly, his eyebrows rising at that.

“You know there is. I told you it was not over.”

You ignored your pulse skyrocketing. You were not that stupid. You knew that with four guys slowly circling you, you would have to fight bites and nails if it came to it and probably still lose.

You jerked from his grip anyway, still hoping you could just walk away and call it day. Naïve.

“It is over for me. Now if you’ll excuse me-“

The bag was torn away from your shoulder, your fingers automatically letting go to stay attached to your hand. You gritted your teeth, blood slowly reaching the boiling point.

Also, maybe you were a bit afraid. Not that you would ever admit it.

Henry’s hand reached for your chin and your snatched it away in disgust before he could even make contact with your skin. Anger flashed in his eyes.

“Kitty has claws?”

You felt another hand on your backside and you grabbed it, shoving it away as well. _Jim._ Why weren’t you surprised? Pigs. What the _fuck_ was their problem?

“I’ll let you know when I meet any. Now get out of my way,” you hissed, your gut twisting as the sly grin spread on Henry’s face and he made a step _right into_ your route.

“Or what? You’ll scratch, kitty? Or you’ll scream? Like a little girl?” he mocked you, his face lowering to yours so you were only inches apart.

“Bet you’ll like that,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes. “No, I’ll offer you a breath-mint.“

Yep, _that_ was the mistake no.5 and definitely an enormous one.

You heard one of the guys chuckle and then there was something around your neck, the weight of the towel shifting (add it to the mistake list) and your body flew backwards, colliding with a male one. George was it?

Your hands instinctively flew to your throat, but suddenly they were being pinned to your sides by strong arms. Jim had caught one, Henry another.

You tried to jerk from their grip, your breath coming short, your pulse thundering in your ears.

Oh you were so fucked.

“Sassy little mouth, aren’t you?” Henry hummed, wry expression on his ugly face. “So dirty, feels like we should wash it with something. Who wants to go first?”

Loud alarm bells sounded in your head, icy shiver running down your spine.

_Oh no, you don’t._

You knee flew up on instinct to gain the momentum, followed by a swift low kick to Jim’s knee.

He yelped and let go of your hand, allowing you to send a back punch to George’s face; and finally your airways were free as his grip on the towel loosened. You threw it away.

“Bitch!” yelled one of them. You were unsure which one, but you didn’t waste time thinking too much. Survival instinct took over.

Tears prickled in the corners of your eyes and you barely silenced the scream as Henry twisted your arm behind your back.

You tried to kick him, but someone else’s leg somehow managed to cut off your core and you fell on your knees. Sharp tug on your hair caused you to cry out and obediently tilt your head back. Few tears escaped you, but you pushed up in attempt to get up again.

A kick coming from behind threw your body forwards and you nearly fell on your face. You tasted blood as you bit your cheek, but you managed to at least land on your shoulder instead of face-planting.

Which still hurt like a bitch, but at least you still had all your teeth… or you thought so, not having time to check. You rolled over before a kick to your side could hit you with full force – Frank’s foot only brushed you, but you were sure you’d have a bruise as a souvenir anyway.

A punch landed next to your face when you dodged it in the last moment, someone grabbing your legs and holding them together. Between your efforts to free them, you didn’t have time to chase away the body holding your arms as well.

“Shit-- she’s a handful.”

A battle cry emerged from your lips and you tried to jerk your body from their grip on pure instinct, every move you had ever learned flying of the window.

“More fun to break her, don’t you think?” Henry purred, his hand sneaking around your waist.

You wanted to puke. You wanted to puke and scream and punch and you couldn’t make yourself to do either, tears rolling down your cheeks as your body convulsed in a desperate attempt to break free. There was ringing in your ears, disorienting you and you tried to bite the hand holding you down.

 _“Oh-ho, biting!“_ you heard, strangely muffled as if you were under water.

_“Shit, shit-“_

The pressure on your legs eased and you immediately kicked with all you had, catching the rising figure in the calf, knocking them off balance.

_“Fuck!”_

You would swear the floor vibrated, but in must have only been your mind playing tricks on you. George disappeared from your field of vision; you only saw a fist sending him flying sideways.

Yep, your mind was fucking making up things, because there was no way he could have been _thrown away_ like this by a single punch. You weren’t complaining; the relief the illusion provided was almost blissful.

Henry’s body weight vanished as well in nearly supersonic speed as if he wanted to escape. You did the first thing that came to your mind; with your hands free, you grabbed his ankle, stopping him from running away. Which, thinking about it, was stupid, because only a moment before, you would have given anything to get him the fuck away from you.

He kicked back blindly, but his sole never met with your body – he was dragged away and… and lifted to the air as if he weighted nothing.

Blinking your tears away, your fuzzy mind cleared.

Only to reveal a very muscled and very much _pissed off_ blond slamming Henry against a wall and then letting his suddenly unconscious body slide down.

You gasped, your eyes catching a glimpse of the fourth figure – Frank – several feet away, running for his life.

“Buck?!” came a shout and before you could question it, a metal arm emerged from behind the corner, stopping Frank dead as he rushed straight into it.

“Yep?!” the dark-haired supersoldier yelled back, sounding almost amused.

What the hell just happened?

You blood sizzled in your veins, loud and rapid thump-thump-thump banging in your ears, face damp with several shed tears, body aching and your mind was fucking racing.

You heard a whimper on your left, automatically turning to the sound. It left Jim’s lips, his form crumbled on the floor, struggling to stand up.

The captain’s knee seemed to come from nowhere, digging into Jim’s back and pinning him down again before you even registered a movement.

“Is it fucking over _now?”_

“Steve, let him be. Not worth it,” Barnes’ voice negotiated, sounding almost growling, but not nearly as loud as before. He approached your group in rapid pace.

You gulped at his angry grimace; it softened when his gaze fell on you.

“Hey there.” He hold out a hand to help you up. “Can you stand?”

You blinked several times at the suddenly casual tone, still sensing something bubbling under it. You shook off the thought and accepted the offered hand – the flesh one. The detail didn’t escape you, your brain in an overdrive. Of course he hadn’t offered you the metal arm. He didn’t want to scare you. He was thoughtful like that.

Or not. The strength he dragged you up with was way too much for you, more so when combined with the speed.  You stumbled over your feet, a wave of dizziness messing with your balance.

You awaited the upcoming reunion with the floor unable to stop the fall, but it never happened. Before you could as much as reel, gentle hands supported you in a firm grip, pleasantly warm against your bare arms.

“Whoa, take it easy,” Rogers’ voice warned you, soothing. For some reason, it felt more like ‘I got you,’ instead of ‘take it easy.’

You took a deep breath, Barnes’ hand letting go of yours as he semi-voluntarily handed you over to his friend.  

“You’re bleeding from your mouth.”

_Thanks, I noticed._

You swallowed the snarky remark, well-aware of the sergeant’s care. You fought against the urge to spit the blood out.

“Is fine…” you muttered, wiping your mouth. “Bit my cheek. I’m pretty sure I—“ you quickly ran your tongue over your teeth just to confirm your theory, “-still have all of my teeth.”

Sergeant Barnes gave you a tiny smile, the crinkle that had found its way between his brows disappearing.

“Whatever you say.”

His gaze flickered behind your head, exchanging a wordless conversation with your still present crutch. Not that you were complaining. The weight of what had happened was slowly settling on your shoulders and you were grateful for any support.

“Why don’t we leave you in pu- _Cap’s_ capable hands while I-“ his jaw clenched, pale eyes scanning the four bodies on the floor, calculating. “-take out the trash?”

You nearly choked at the choice of his words, wincing. Captain Rogers’ hands squeezed your shoulders reassuringly and you nodded, not sure what else to do.

You didn’t want to look at Henry. Or Jim. Or their loyal companions.

So when the captain carefully spun you on your heels, you didn’t protest and your feet started moving the direction he had set on autopilot.

“You okay to walk without support?” he asked softly, a stark contrast to the voice you remembered from earlier or from the training sessions.

You knew that if you said yes, he would let go of you. Honestly, his touch was damn nice, pleasant contrary to harsh fingers of the men who had the nerve to attack you. Yet, you didn’t abuse the kindness he was offering. After several indulging steps, you quietly confirmed he could release you.

You found out that sensing his large frame by your side as if he was your bodyguard was nearly as comforting.

Nearly.

You didn’t admonish yourself for basking the light of his protective persona. Future agent of not, you still had the right to want to feel secure at times.

After all, you were only human.

 

 


	3. A handful of truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The longest and the sweetest part. What else is new. Thank you for reading.

You didn’t realize you were shaking until a blanket was tossed over your shoulders.

You were sitting on a short couch in what looked like a cosy office, hair still damp, body finally registering the ache caused by previous events, just like your brain was slowly taking in what had happened.

Captain Rogers, whose courtesy was to escort you from the hellhole you had been attacked in, had clearly took it as a personal mission to take care of your injuries; it hadn’t dawned to you until you were seated and your mind helpfully supplied you with ‘This isn’t the infirmary’.

He pulled a swivel chair to sit face to face with you, a box of medical supplies left open on the coffee table at your side. You didn’t realize he had moved the chair or dug the box from god-knew-where until the items were simply there.

“How do you feel?” he inquired, attentive eyes scanning your hunched form. You instinctively curled onto yourself, snuggling further into the blanket. You knew you should come up with an answer, but your brain started to hurt with the effort to do so. “I guess that’s fair. Can you tell me what hurts the most?”

You quickly glanced at his open kind face, his baby blues still watching for any reaction that would clue him. Your throat went dry, so you swallowed before speaking. You didn’t know what possessed you to tell him what you did.

“My pride,” you croaked, causing his eyebrows jump just like the corner of his lips.

“That’s probably fair too. Then again, I’d rather know about something I can fix.”

You felt your body relax a little at his informal tone – you might even say jovial, but you could still sense too much worry behind it to call it that. You attempted a tiny smile at least to show him that you were more or less fine and brilliantly failed.

“Landed on my shoulder. Probably gonna have a bruise on my side from when… when they kicked me. Ribs and arms might be a bit tender for few days, ‘cause they were heavy as they—they’re heavy,” you voice wavered as you saw the muscles on the captain’s forearms clench and his hands curled up in fists. You sheepishly looked up to his face. “I got lucky.”

His eyebrows rose again in a ‘figures’ manner as he leaned back to the chair.

“Nothing else apart from that, your cheek and your pride?”

“I’m a little cold, but you took care of that,” you admitted, taking a deep breath in as you tugged on the blanket pointedly.

Despite what you were saying, you didn’t feel okay, the tremble never quite leaving your body. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. You stared at your knight in shining armour, gathering courage to do what was needed. You tried your best to meet his gaze, feeling so small and embarrassingly weak in front of him.

“Could have been much worse if you haven’t showed up. Thank you.”

He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. He leaned in, his elbows on his knees.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t faster... _I should have kept closer eye on Ulrich,_ ” he muttered under his breath, making you wonder if you only imagined it. “Your pride shouldn’t be hurt. You held yourself against them just fine.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the honestly his voice held. Oh. Had he forgotten how things had been when he had arrived?

You weren’t sure whether you should remind him. You definitely didn’t want to remind _yourself_ , but before you could solve your little dilemma, he clarified.

“You haven’t started training the combat against multiple opponents yet. Let alone _four_ opponents, all of them having both height and weight advantage. You couldn’t exactly go all Black Widow on them if no one showed you how.”

He accented his words with a reassuring smile and you almost believed him. The shivers finally eased, most likely thanks to the warm treatment you were being given. The inner cold gradually melted and you were left in nothing but pleasant warmth. Mentally, you patted your pride gently on its head; you couldn’t quite disagree with him. No matter how helpless you had felt earlier and how ashamed for it you were, the truth was you were still learning. You weren’t a finished agent yet.

You breathed in and out, escaping the gaze that was still on you. It felt like a freaking brand. You couldn’t say you hated it, only wishing you at least didn’t look so pathetic. No make-up, probably red with a smudge on blood somewhere and hair wet and ruffled. You absently ran your fingers through it in attempt to fix it a bit.

“I… I just fucking hate bullies,” you grumbled, your hand immediately covering your mouth when you realized what you had said. _Oh. Language. Still your superior you’re talking to._ “Sorry. Please, pretend you didn’t hear the f-word. I just hate bullies, period.”

“I might have sworn earlier too, so let’s call it even.” Oh. He had, hadn’t he? _‘Is it fucking over now?’_ What did that even mean? “And so I heard.”

“What?” you yelped, your mind racing again.

“I mean… I heard you. When you were defending Bucky, in the gym. I’m pretty sure your exact words were about a ‘pissing contest’.”

“Oh god,” you breathed, your face turning bright red. He had heard you; that was why he had said he should have kept a closer eye on Henry. Oh. Ohhhh.

Also, did he just say ‘pissing’?

“You weren’t wrong by the way. But… neither were them.”

You blinked in surprise. What?

“About?”

You _knew_ he didn’t mean the sleeping around with recruits, your gut was screaming that at you, but still, you rather asked for clarification. If he didn’t mean that part, which one then?

“Ladies do fall over for Bucky,” he hummed with a lopsided smile, a playful twinkle in his eyes. It did something to your belly, a strange familiar shift that was very inappropriate, but hell, people needed to cut you some slack. He was impossible not to ogle. “And I don’t really pull my punches when I’m training those two in particular.”

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and think better of it.

His gaze bored into yours, burning with serious intensity, yet with a glint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I don’t like bullies either.”

Did he lean in even more or were you so focused on his face it only seemed closer?

You weren’t able to look away. His blue eyes simply locked you in, not allowing you to escape. The strangest thing was that it wasn’t scary. It should be, he was— he was a freaking captain, your superior, a superior to a lot of people, which you were constantly forgetting ever since he had saved you from falling on your ass in the hallway and you _had to_ remember that.

Before you could though, your racing mind packed up and let your body, _your mouth_ to be precise, act without supervision.

“Not trying to impress the ladies then, huh?”

His tiny sheepish smile cut off the uprising panic in your chest when you realized how bold of you was to say that. He lowered his gaze, giving a subtle shrug. “Guess I wouldn’t want one falling for guy’s muscles and a show-off of dominance.”

“What for then? Honesty? Sincerity? Kind eyes? Strong moral compass?” you heard yourself prying, internally horrified how far you had come when saying that. Your face was drained of colour when it clicked. Oh shit. Fix it, fix it, _fix it!_ “…the sass?”

His eyes went wide and he burst out laughing so loud it startled you for a second. Then you reluctantly joined him, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“The _sass!”_ he howled, unable to hold back another fit of laughter and when you peeked at him between your fingers, you saw his palm resting against his chest as if it could help him stop laughing.

Just like that, the blood rushed back into your cheeks.

“Oh god, I made it worse!” you cried out, wishing for the earth to swallow you, frantically looking around for the fastest escape route. “Oh my god, I have to switch schools now… excuse me-“

You hastily got up from your seat, but a quick hand snatched yours, pulling you back.

You stumbled, landing ungracefully right back in your place, this time without the blanket. He was watching you with the corners of his lips high, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Sorry for grabbing you like that. But no, please. Stay.”

Your throat closed off when you heard his soft plea, only traces of humour in it. Yeah, you bet he hadn’t met anyone with such big mouth for a while, so he thought it was better to keep the comic around.

“Captain Rogers, I-I- what I said, it was completely out of line-“ you stuttered, only to be interrupted.

“Were you making it up?” he questioned.

You gulped, your mind screaming at you to say yes to save you the humiliation. And yet, with the cerulean irises staring into your eyes, your mouth did the exact opposite.

“No.”

 _Dammit_.

“Then why would you go?” His hand still didn’t leave yours, only easing the grip into a kinder one. You felt like a brand was being burned into your skin. A pleasant one, so you didn’t retreat. Oh, you’d never. But what on earth was he getting at? “We need someone honest like you. People who stand up for others, even if only to defend their honour. That is the kind of people who should be in this line of work. The good ones.”

You opened your mouth, no sound coming out. His words seemed to be coming from heart, genuine, which was not helping your blood pressure and suddenly wobbling limbs.

“Even when they have potty mouth and put their foot in it? ‘Cause I seem to excel in that.”

“Especially then,” he chuckled and you could tell there was no pinch of a lie in it.

Something was in the air, crackling deliciously, and you liked it. You wouldn’t be able to describe it properly, the feeling simply too unique, but it was tickling your fancy so weren’t about to complain.

“O-okay. Thank you, Captain,” you whispered

“You started with the compliments, Agent.”

And just like that, you wanted to run for your life again, drowning in embarrassment. What were you even still doing here? Complimenting him? Enjoying his touch? _Flirting with him?_  

Were you _nuts?!_

A captain— no, _the captain._ And an agent-- hell, not even an agent yet!

The captain whose eyes flickered to not-an-agent’s lips for the shortest of moments, widening a fraction before returning to her eyes.

Oh, now you were definitely going nuts. You were _hallucinating_. You must have hit your head too. He wasn’t into you and you being into him was _very_ stupid _._

You should go.

…any moment now.

_…just get off your ass for god’s sake-_

“Can I ask you something?”

You blinked yourself back to reality, shushing the voice in your head, curious smile appearing on your lips unconsciously. The softness of his voice felt better than the blanket and you wanted to cocoon yourself in it, postponing the leaving plans to never.

“Sure,” you replied, the smile remaining on your face despite your better judgement.

He lowered his eyes to your joined hands, his thumb running over the back of your hand in a feather-light touch. You heart positively stopped at the moment, your breath hitching. Holy shit, what was he doing?

“This, does it… do you hate it?” he whispered the question, not meeting your eyes as if he was too shy, which was… ridiculous. He had no reason to be shy.

It still felt like a shot through your heart – a nice one. The words combined with the way they were spoken, it tickled something in your belly, warming it up and you couldn’t deny it anymore.

You really wanted this man; whatever this was, it was getting beyond a silly crush. Also, for some reason, it seemed as if he was trying to tell you he was interested too, which you thought was pretty freaking crazy.

“Stay honest, please,” he pleaded when you didn’t answer right away.

Did you hate it? The chastest display of affection if you dared to call it that? Your mind raced, trying to figure out _why_ on earth he would ask that. Because the only reason you had come up with so far was completely impossible.

“No,” you said simply, earning a brief glance up before he looked down again. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Good. That’s good… and would you… I’m aware this is out of line and I—I want you to answer truthfully without fearing the consequences-…“

It was your turn to swallow loudly, because _what?_ What did he want to ask that he considered it out of line? He was your superior – you could think of thousand ways of how _you_ could get out of line, but him? And _why_ should you fear the consequences?! Did he want you to help him to hide a body?

 _That’s not it and you know it. You know what he wants to ask,_ you rational side admonished you.

_Oh please, shut up. Since when you switched sides?_

“O-okay. What— what is it-- Steve?” you stuttered out, freezing when his name left your lips and his head snapped up, his hand giving yours a squeeze. _Oh boy._

“Would you possibly say you like it?” he blurted out and your brain went to overdrive at the hope behind his expression.

Huh. He really asked that. Oh shit. Oh _wow_. Your jaw fell into your lap – only figuratively, you hoped –, your ears buzzing, your blood bursting in excitement.

Oh yeah, you understood why he mentioned the consequences. Either you could say no and you fear he might treat you differently or you could say yes and _fear_ he might treat you differently.

The fire in your insides burned hotter at the idea of the latter.

His hand slowly left yours, giving you a simple choice you still couldn’t believe you were given.

Holy shit. What do you even say to something like that? Coming from someone like him? Your brain froze as you only managed to stare.

Did his—did the corners of his lips turn down? Was that sadness pooling in the sea of blue of his eyes?

_Oh no, you don’t._

“Y-yes,” you admitted sheepishly, closing your eyes at the heaviness of your confession.

You could feel the load on your shoulders as silence fell, only interrupted by your soft breathing that sounded ominously loud.

Your fingers twitched when his warm palm covered them again, your lips parting in surprise. You kept your eyes closed, indulging the strange moment. His free hand caressed your other as well, the gentlest of touches, tender, contrasting with rough callouses on his fingers.

“I like it too.”

At that, you gathered enough courage to look at him, only to see him inspecting your face closely, observing your reactions. It shocked you that it wasn’t uncomfortable as you would expect; must have been the kindness and wonder in his gaze. You forced your lips to curl up in a tiniest smile. Steve smiled back with same hesitance, his face lighting up.

He looked like a boy next door (making it to a modelling agency), shining eyes and happy grin forming on his lips. He was gorgeous.

Still keeping your hands, he raised his right one, his knuckles brushing your unharmed cheek. The gesture was so tender it brought tears into your eyes, causing him quickly retreat.

“Sorry-“

You shook your head with a self-deprecating chuckle, squeezing his fingers before he could let go off you completely.

“It’s not you—I mean… it _is_ you,” you babbled nonsensically, taking a breath to gather your thoughts. “It’s just— that was really sweet. No, that’s not-“ _Not the right word._ “It was beautiful. I swear I never felt so…” _loved_ “-cared for in my life.”

He frowned, a shadow of pain running over his face. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know that today was… unpleasant.”

Seeing his reluctance and discomfort, you went for the first thing that came up to your mind. You straightened up and pressed a light kiss on his cheek, withdrawing oh so slowly.

His breath hitched, his eyes glued to you intently, flickering to your lips again.

“You didn’t upset me, Steve. That’s the last thing you could do with that,” you assured him, face still inches from his. His name rolled off your tongue easily this time, even though it still left your heart fluttering.

“And if I asked you to have dinner with me?”

Your stomach twisted in a pleasant knot at that suggestion, your lizard brain already thinking about having a dessert for a second; and you weren’t thinking cake or ice-cream.

Yeah, _barely_. This was a guy ready to treat you right, you were sure of it. He certainly wasn’t about to kiss you now, he might go for it after the dinner and that was only if you got lucky enough. You swallowed the disappointment at the idea, quickly shaking it off.

 _Make up your goddamn mind, woman._ You should be glad that men who weren’t thinking with their lower brain still existed _and_  one of those was clearly interested in you, which… yeah, what the hell, that might take a while getting used to. Add the fact that he was being incredibly considerate of how you might feel after being assaulted and you had a winner of your heart. You realized you were actually happy he wouldn’t try anything even nearly ‘funny’.

You were fine with hand holding and brushes of his fingers on your face. You didn’t care much if that made you a freaking sap.

“Still not upset,” you offered, deciding he probably liked when you were a bit cheeky.

He gave you a closed lipped smile in response, confirming your theory.

“Does that count like a yes?”

You shrugged, the corners of your lips twitching. You had no idea when the change had happened, but all you wanted now was to giggle. And maybe snuggle, but you weren’t about to say that out loud.

“You tell me.”

He licked his lips and shook his head as he retreated. Before you could protest – or have a heart attack, because the motion of his tongue attracted your gaze like a magnet, setting your core on fire –, he sat beside you, leaving enough space in case you didn’t like it.

You liked it, subtly moving an inch closer to his side. Damn, he radiated warmth. Maybe just a bit closer…?

“Cheeky dame, aren’t you?” Steve more stated than asked, reaching for the blanket pooled around you to cover you again.

You didn’t realize you had goosebumps before his hands gently tugged you in, careful not to touch you where you could consider it inappropriate.

_Yeah, forget about any funny business any time soon._

You huffed. “Clearly. It did get me into trouble before.”

His eyes darkened a bit, his face noticeably falling.

_No, nope, bad move, miss not-an-agent._

“I should walk you back to your dorm,” he remarked, already rising to his feet.

You first reaction was to say _no_ , because you weren’t ready to say goodbye yet. Your second was to say no, because Shauna probably still had her hot date.

Instead, your hand shot up to catch his, effectively stopping him. He froze before returning to his seat, tiny question mark in a place of his face right next to his soft smile.

You cleared your throat, deciding to give him the latter reason.

“Uhm… my roommate has a date. If I go there, I’ll probably find a sock on the doorknob,” you revealed, biting your lip when he raised an eyebrow and relaxed to the cushions.

“People still do that?”

You chuckled, the fact that not only he was Captain, but also _Captain America_ , which meant he was about hundred years old, hitting you like a train.

“Yeah, people still do that,” you assured him, amused.

He pouted, which you found unfairly adorable and… kissable. _Nope, later_.

“Sure, make fun of the old man…” he uttered, but a spark of laughter lighted up in his irises, so you assessed he wasn’t too offended. He was most likely used to the teasing.

As an idea of interpreting his exclaim differently popped in your mind, you grinned.

“Is that a permission to make fun of Sergeant Barnes?” you pried playfully, sending Steve to another surprised fit of laughter, not unlike when you had complimented his sass. Your heart swelled at the joyful picture of him and the prospect of seeing more of it in future.

Due to his laughter, you didn’t hear he knock on the door if there was any n the first place. The door simply swung open, revealing the other supersoldier. _Speak of the Devil…_

Seeing his friend, Steve burst out laughing once more. Sergeant Barnes closed the door with a puzzled look.

You just shrugged in response, opening your mouth without a sound coming out and he took in the scene in front of him again, a smirk appearing on his lips. Under that gaze, you felt your face heat up. You could only imagine how that looked like, Steve cosily close to you, laughing, your hand right next to his thigh as his outburst had sent it sliding from his hand.

The smirk on the supersoldier’s face only deepened when he noticed how flustered he had made you.

“Punk?” he questioned and Steve wheezed once more, raising a palm in the sergeant’s direction, turning to you first.

He offered you a hand to shake. Confused, you accepted as his eyes twinkling in mischief bored into yours.

“Deal,” he mouthed, sending your lips twitching, and only then he shifted his attention to his friend. “Buck?”

The supersoldier had his eyes narrowed, watching you suspiciously.

“I’m gonna regret sending you with her instead of doing it the other way around, aren’t I?” he stated, not actually asking as his gaze flickered between the two of you.

His expression pushed you over the edge and the giggle building up in your chest for the last few minutes finally broke free. You simply couldn’t contain it anymore despite having two superiors in the room. Steve gave you a warm smile as the sound left your lips, clearly not bothered by it.

You hoped you’d be forgiven by Sergeant Barnes as well. After all, you were just human.

“Yeah, Buck, I think you are.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cavities, fellas. Or should I say ‘you’re welcome’? Whatever works for you. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, potentially kudos and comments. True fuel :-*

**Author's Note:**

> I blame the upcoming Endgame for my brain being unable to let go of Steve. I might actually cry if/when they kill him. So. Yeah, let’s have some more Steve appreciation.


End file.
